For centuries the sun and moon have risen
here over the horizon of rolling hills
in this home where the buffalo still roam.

In the centuries past, our forefathers were forced here.
Here where the land, and our forefathers, were thought
never to be needed, wanted and preferably seen again.
Giving away that which was never owned by them to begin with
in this home where the buffalo still roam.

In the centuries hence, we dried our tears and made this land ours.
We’ve lived and died here. And in spite of it all, thrived here.
Keeping that which is sacred – sacred,
in this home where the buffalo still roam.

In this century now, the smooth grassy curves of the horizon
are broken by the sharp lines of a civilization, vying to creep in.
Exhausting what is theirs now profanely vie to disrespect what is ours
in this home where the buffalo still roam.

This is our sacred, because it is not so for them does not belie it,
in this home where the buffalo still roam.

====================

Inspired by the buffalo sighting at the Standing Rock Dakota Access Pipeline Protests last week.